GHOSTBUSTERS: PPE 5
by Q-CREW
Summary: There's nothing Ray loves more than a good joke. Unfortunately, so does a powerful spook from another dimension. Now Ray must prank for all he's worth, or end up a slave forever!


**GHOSTBUSTERS  
PROFESSIONAL PARANORMAL ELIMINATORS  
#5  
"PRANK ON, RAY"**

WRITTEN & CHIEFED BY  
Chris Buchner

PENCILS  
Rolando Munoz

INKS & LETTERS  
Ben King

COLORS  
Adam Bestler

EDITS  
Ben King & Dan Liberg

COVER  
Fritz Baugh

* * *

**ST. MARK'S COMICS  
ST. MARK'S PLACE, NEW YORK CITY**

Like most of the other ground-floor businesses on the street, the entrance to the store is a few steps below the sidewalk level. The store itself is fairly large, but you'd never know it by the amount of merchandise jammed into the place.

Inside, the left wall is lined with shelves full of all the current releases from a good majority of the comic companies in existence today. The wall is interrupted by an opening leading to a smaller room where back issue boxes are stacked and walls are completely crammed with assorted toys and figures. Aside from the small sliver of floor visible between everything, the only other clear space is the ceiling. On the other side of the entrance are the posters and adult comics. On the right wall of the store is the checkout counter covered in assorted merchandise with 50 cent comic boxes set up on tables after it. The walls everywhere are covered with posters, toys and other collectable items adding to the claustrophobic feel of the place.

It's a feel Ray loves.

He loves coming here and looking at all the artwork and merchandise around him. It just adds to the buying experience, he feels. You can tell what stores are owned by actual fans of the things they sell just by the way they set them up and display things. Every month since he's had a store a block away, he's come here to buy a stack of comics. He had stopped for a while, but with brand new _Captain Steel_ comics and their own officially licensed _Ghostbusters_ series done (and done right) by industry newcomer 88MPH, it's hard to keep him away from the habit. Even if he wanted to, that is.

"Here you go, Ray. That's $42.88," the man behind the counter says as he hands Ray his bagged stack. Ray takes it with one hand and hands him the money with the other.

"Thanks, Jerry."

"Ya know, those _Ghostbusters_ comics are selling pretty good."

"Yeah? That's good to hear. We got some creative input with the company, so the stories and artwork end up much better I think. Not like those comics those guys overseas are releasing. Would you believe they had Gozer and Zuul in a Thanksgiving story?"

"HA! Yeah, that does sound kinda out there. Nah, these guys are better. I tell ya, cow chicken frizzle dazzle corn box junk gorfats." Ray tilts his head as he looks at his friend curiously.

"Uh, what?"

"Grosnats billonwartz corfiblutation misonoxt," Jerry says again.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said…" Ray responds, raising an eyebrow as he notices his friend frozen in mid sentence. He waves a hand in front of his eyes, getting no response.

"Oh, I wouldn't expect much out o' him," a voice with an Irish accent says. Ray turns towards the comic wall to find a short, pudgy man laying down in mid air and reading an issue of _Army of Brightness_. He has big, bulky shoes, purple trousers with a matching coat whose tails are way too long and with patches in various places, a white button down shirt with a green and purple polka dot tie and matching suspenders, big white gloves over his four fingered hands and green curly hair around his oddly shaped head under the brim of his extremely tall top hat. "I put the whole store under so we could have a moment," the being finishes, looking at Ray over the comic and revealing a face that looks almost like a human cartoon.

"And you are…?" The little man drops the comic and flips up to stand in the air, taking a bow while swinging off his hat revealing his bald head.

"Poppem McPranken from the dimension Pranxx, at yuir service. I've come here tae collect a new specimen fer me traveling inter-dimensional circus; the greatest show in the multiverse (if I do say so meself…and I do!)" He looks up at Ray with a chilling smile. "And I've selected ye."

"Me?"

"Aye!" Poppem says, replacing his hat and floating over to Ray. "I've been watchin' yer 'Ghostbusters' crew fer some time now, and ye most fit in to the vibe I'm going fer."

"Uh-huh. Well, I'm sorry you wasted your time but I already have a job," Ray says as he grabs his bag of comics. "Please unfreeze them on your way out."

"What'd you say, Ray?" Jerry asks. Ray jumps when he hears his voice, and turns to see him and the other patrons moving again…and staring at him strangely.

"Um…nothing. See you later." Ray heads out the door and up the stairs to the sidewalk, crossing over to Ecto-1 waiting by the curb. He opens the driver's door only to find the opening bricked up. "What the--!" He looks up into the windshield to see the other two doors bricked up as well. Ray taps on the obstruction curiously…it's real.

"Ah, me boyo, ye seem tae not get it," Poppem says, appearing above Ecto. "Ye ain't got a choice in the matter. I say yer comin', yer comin'." Ray heads over to the back and opens the door: all clear. _You sealed up the wrong doors_, he thinks to himself with a smile. He quickly reaches in and grabs the proton gun off the nearest pack, aiming it up at Poppem. "Oh, mercy me! Are ye gonna bust me? Gonna put me in yuir wee li'l trap? Oh, whatever shall I do?" Ray presses the trigger, only to have a white flag pop out of the end with the word "ZZAP!" written on it. Ray looks down at the rifle, curiously. "We've secretly replaced this Ghostbuster's proton pack…let's see if he notices," Poppem says, appearing over Ray's shoulder laughing.

"What are you?" Poppem flies up, spinning with his arms extended.

"I'm king o' pranks! I love me a good laugh, and do whatever it takes ta get it! Observe." He looks down the street and Ray follows his gaze. At the intersection, the traffic light turns green and the waiting car starts up. With a silent gesture from Poppem, the light on the other street goes green and that car starts into the intersection, causing both cars to collide with each other. While the drivers curse at each other, Poppem falls back in the air and holds his stomach, laughing hysterically. Ray looks up at him angrily.

"What are you, crazy! People could've been hurt!"

"Aye, and they still might, laddie," Poppem says with a cruel smile. "As long as I'm here, me pranks will only grow stronger. Sure, they start out harmless at first, but, ye never know. I'll make ye a deal! Letcha have a fair play at it!"

"What sort of deal?"

"I'll give ye one hour to rig up every prank ye can, and after said hour I'll power down and approach 'em as a normal man…so to speak…while huntin' ye. If ye manage to catch me by surprise, I'll leave ye alone and go elsewhere."

"And if I lose?" Ray asks.

"Yuir mine forever," he responds coldly. "Well, is it a deal or isn't it?" Poppem extends his hand and Ray looks at it. Reluctantly, he takes it and shakes. "Excellent! And, ta sweeten the deal, I'll even give ye home court advantage. One hour, boyo. Use it wisely." With a nod of his head, there's a flash and Ray finds himself behind the wheel of Ecto-1, looking at the firehouse doors opening in front of him. Ray pulls inside and quickly gets out.

"Janine, where's Egon?"

"Upstairs," Janine responds as she reaches over to answer the ringing phone. "Ghostbusters, we bust if we must. Prince Albert where…?" Ray heads for the stairs and runs up while Winston hands Peter the salt shaker in the office area. Peter turns it over his food and the lid falls off, completely covering it in salt. Peter glares at Winston who shrugs innocently.

Ray reaches the third floor and heads towards the double doors to Egon's lab. "Egon, I've got a problem…" Ray starts as he opens a door. He stops short when he sees the lab. The entire room has been completely flipped. The ceiling is now the floor and the floor is now the ceiling, complete with all the furnishings, fixtures and Egon himself! Egon, seemingly oblivious to the situation, continues working with some chemicals on an experiment. "Uh, Egon?"

"Hmm?" Egon mumbles without looking up…or down.

"Yo, Egon!" Winston shouts from behind Ray, making him jump. Ray looks as Winston enters the lab, which was back to normal. "We've got refrigerators running around Times Square!"

"Fascinating," Egon says as he strips off his lab coat. "Let's go." He heads out of the lab with Winston behind him.

"You coming, Ray?" Winston asks, turning around briefly.

"Uh, no…I've got something to do here."

"Alright, catch ya later!" With that, he disappears into the bedroom and down the fire pole.

"Tsk, tsk. That's not playin' fair, boyo," a familiar voice says behind Ray. Ray turns around to find Poppem floating over Egon's table with lab equipment floating around him. "I sent yuir friends and their secretary away; can't have them knowin' of me presence just yet. Ye have 54 minutes." With that, he disappears and the equipment crashes to the ground. Ray looks at the mess with a determined look and decides he needs to get to work.

* * *

**54 MINUTES LATER**

Poppem appears before the firehouse and looks up at the old structure. "Game time!" he says, gleefully sure of his victory. He lands on the ground and walks towards the large doors before him. On the right door is a sign that reads "USE OTHER DOOR PLEASE". Poppem smiles to himself as he gets closer and reaches for the knobs on both doors. He twists and pushes, taking a step back. Inside, the doors open and pull strings attached to both knobs taught. The rods they're attached to yank out and the quickly installed shelves they were holding up above the doors collapse, letting buckets of ice water fall onto the floor.

"Pfft, if this is the best ye got, boyo, may as well call it quits now," Poppem says as he enters. Ray watches him move through the garage bay from the opening around a fire pole, a cell phone in his hand at the ready. Poppem heads towards the desk as the phone begins to ring. He eyes it with a smirk and seemingly goes to answer it. "Me mother always said to answer a ringin' phone…" _C'mon…_ Ray encourages in his head, holding the phone to his ear. Poppem stops his hand and pulls it back. "…But I'm thinkin' I'll be answering this one instead." With that, he pulls a candlestick phone out of his coat and picks up the receiver.

"Let me guess; glue on the phone?" his voice says through Ray's phone. "Pathetic so far, me boy. Ready ta just give up?" Ray hangs up his phone angrily and heads away from the pole. Poppem snickers as he puts his phone away and turns for the stairs. Just as he's about to step on the first one, he stops. "Stairs look a mite wet. Could they be coated in shoe polish?" Poppem runs a finger across it and it comes up brown. "That it is. Nasty one, ain'tcha?" He heads back over to the fire pole and grabs it. His arm is pulled up and he follows it up, landing in the living area on the next floor.

Poppem walks past the staircase and stops when he spots a faint trip wire going across from the banister to the chair. He looks up to find several fake ghosts strung up on springs with release pins attached to the wire. "Ghosts at the Ghostbusters HQ. Cute, but hardly scary." He steps over the wire and avoids the marbles scattered about the landing as he proceeds down the hall towards the kitchen. He stops next to the closet door and reaches for the knob, but decides against it. "Nah, ye've been a li'l too glue happy already," he says with a knowing smile. He continues on, grabbing an umbrella out of the stand. Ray slowly opens the closet door, a bit relieved, and peers out as Poppem stops at the beginning of the kitchen floor and jabs at the honey-covered cellophane taped across the doorway.

He raises his foot and stomps down, shattering the thin layer of clear ice coating the tile; the result of a couple hastily mixed chemicals from Egon's lab. Poppem slides the broken ice out of his path and approaches the table, finding a card with his name on it next to some cookies, a glass and a pitcher full of a beverage. Poppem, of course, suspects some sort of tampering; something mixed into the cookie batter or the drink.

"A snack? Fer me? Ye shouldn't have. Although, I think I rather get me own." He moves over to the fridge and grabs the handle. Ray's hopes rise as he thinks his diversionary tactic may have worked, but they're quickly dashed when Poppem opens the door while standing behind it. A loaded spring is released and a pie is sent flying out of the fridge and splattering all over the opposite wall. _Last chance_, Ray thinks. He lunges out of the closet and hops over the marbles to reach the nearest pole. Poppem turns, smiling.

"Running won't help ye, boy. Yuir number's up!"

* * *

Ray slides down to the garage bay and runs over to the basement stairs. He grabs hold of the banister and slides down to avoid the tar paper laid out on the stairs. He lands and bursts through the basement door. Poppem follows close behind, jumping on the banister and sliding down as if he were surfing with ease. He enters the basement and finds Ray in the middle of the room, just standing there.

"It's over, Poppem. I give up. You truly are the master prankster," Ray says.

"Ah, so glad ta hear it!" Poppem says happily, levitating up over the railing and down to Ray. "Ye did have some doozies fer a short time, I'll give ye that."

"Well, what's fair is fair. Put 'er there!" Ray says, extending his hand. Poppem notices the joy buzzer on his finger.

"Oh ye sly devil! Ye almost got me there!" Ray smirks.

"Hey, one last try couldn't hurt. But since you know about it, obviously you can't fall for it, so no harm in indulging a man's last free prank, right?" Poppem rubs his chin as he looks at Ray's hand, thinking it over. He shrugs and gives a laugh.

"I suppose not! Ye are good loser, Ray Stantz!" Poppem takes his hand and presses the button on the buzzer. Suddenly, Poppem is enveloped in a column of light from below him. "What the! What is this?"

"My last free prank. The one you fell for!"

"Ye tricked me, ye blasted human!"

"Well, yeah."

"I'll get ye fer this!" Poppem shouts as he's sucked down into the grating of the floor. The light fades with a familiar sounding "Clack". Ray crouches down and pulls up the grating, grabbing the smoking trap positioned beneath it. He holds it up and looks at the modified buzzer in his other hand.

"Wireless traps…this has some possibilities."

* * *

**A CLEAN-UP LATER**

Ray reclines behind Janine's desk as Ecto-1 pulls into the firehouse, with Janine following carrying a grocery bag.

"Well, I can see you're hard at work," Peter comments as the guys get out of the car.

"A lot harder than you think, Peter," Ray responds with a smile. He vacates Janine's seat as she puts the bag down on the desk.

"Whatever. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the can," Peter says as he heads up the stairs while Egon carries a few traps to the containment unit.

"Want me to put that stuff in the fridge for you?" Winston asks Janine as the phone rings.

"Thanks, Winston," Janine says as she picks it up. Winston heads upstairs with the bag as Ray walks over to his locker to strip out of his uniform, very proud of himself. By lulling Poppem into a false sense of security with those lame and obvious pranks, he was able to play on his ego and get him into position to be trapped. And what's more, it's given him an idea for a new gadget he'd have to talk over with Egon. But, that can wait. For now, Ray's had a very long day and all he wants to do now is crawl into bed, read _Captain Steel_, and have some sweet, sweet dreams.

"Waitaminute!" Ray exclaims, snapping back to reality. "Where did Peter say he was going!"

* * *

Upstairs in the bathroom, there comes a flush, then an explosion. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" Peter yells.

**THE END**

* * *

GHOSTBUSTERS: PROFESSIONAL PARANORMAL ELIMINATORS VOL. 1 NO. 5 FEBRUARY, 2006 Q-CREW COMICS. GHOSTBUSTERS AND ALL RELATED CHARACTERS TM & © COLUMBIA PICTURES, INC. GHOSTBUSTERS: PPE TM & © Q-CREW COMICS. THIS STORY IS ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ANY SIMILARITIES TO ANY LIVING OR DEAD PERSONS, BUSINESSES OR ORGANIZATIONS IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. RELEASED THROUGH ATOMIC MEDIA GROUP. 


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